


Yo vine buscando la luz que iluminara mi alma (y la encontré en tus ojos)

by PervincaViola



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Lisboa, Missing Scene, Post-Season/Series 02, Romantic Fluff, lovebirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PervincaViola/pseuds/PervincaViola
Summary: There is the damp heat of the sand caressing her knees, Sergio's familiar warmth between her thighs.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	Yo vine buscando la luz que iluminara mi alma (y la encontré en tus ojos)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how it happened, but I ship them so hard that my soul hurts. Raquel always topping is canon and Professor’s sweetness and awkwardness with her just melts my heart eww  
> Anyway, this is a translation of a story I posted on an Italian website: [here](https://efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=3904045&i=1) you can find the original (and better, unfortunately) version.  
> If you’d like to exchange love and everything for these two (and Itziar and Álvaro as well) you can find me on twitter: [@eternita_l](https://twitter.com/eternita_l?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor)  
> Leave a comment if you want to share your thoughts or if you feel like it ♥

The smell is the crisp one of salt water, of the salt that dissolves itself in the wind. Raquel swallows air and desire and breathes with those few broken gasps that she manages to take before bending down on Sergio's lips, stained by the exhausted orange of the sunset.

There is the damp heat of the sand caressing her knees, Sergio's familiar warmth between her thighs, and between them only the wet layer of clothes dripping waves that is like a second skin to explore.

"You're beautiful, Raquel" he exhales, like a prayer, as his hand rises from her abdomen and delicately traces the groove between her breasts, as his beard pinches her ribs and his mouth claims everything she's willing to give him. Raquel laughs in his dark hair because she doesn't believe him, because she's _happy_.

Raquel already knows that taste, those sighs that are like velvet in the hollow of her throat, a knowledge so exact that it takes her breath away – they are two worlds that would never have touched each other, and who knows how they still found one another ( _who knows how they got to this point, far away from everyone and laying on each other, making love on a lonely beach in Palawan that knows no winter_ ).

There are normal days and weary days made on purpose to break a man's life (and a woman's), and the Professor came into her life when the weary days were in such an orderly row that she could count them. And he did it without asking permission, on the same cold morning when the Red-suited Dalì entered the State Mint, and together they tore everything to pieces, because her resistance collapsed before she could even realize it and there was nothing else left to do.

There are normal days and weary days and happy days, Raquel thinks, rolling her hips on Sergio's manhood, and a tiny part of her is so ashamed to be holding him so tightly, to be kissing him as if kissing him was much more important than stopping to breathe - a tiny part of her is ashamed, but there are things that cannot be said so lightly ( _that she wanted him so much that she went to the other side of the world to find him, that she loved him so much that it hurt, that she did not regret her choice even for a single moment_ ).

For years she has been afraid of everything (of other people's judgment, of her own weakness, of seeing the bruises blossom on her body at Alberto's hands and not being believed) and she and Sergio have taken everything away from each other. And now there are only their bodies and the heat of him beneath her suddenly liquid skin, his arms around her middle rocking her, too and fro, and the kiss with which she suffocates her orgasm.

When she collapses on him her are legs still shaking and Sergio's hands are on her back, and the beginning of laughter tickles her chest together with that crazy desire to live that screwed up her life in a terrific way.

Sergio lets her slide beside him, on the golden sand that holds the last heat of the sun, and he never stops looking at her smiling from behind his foggy glasses, which are a bit crooked on his nose, and Raquel feels like floating in a dream - like someone who chases life and sees far away.

The smell is the crisp one of salt water, the sweeter one of Sergio’s skin. He stretches out his hand, putting a hairlock wet of salt and sweat behind her ear, and touches her cheek, ever so gently.

"Lisbon" he murmurs, softly, and then he falls silent. 

And there's no need to ask, no need to be sure; _we should find a city name for me too_ , she remembers saying to him. She can feel the smile bloom on her face without even trying to stop it - maybe it's happiness, maybe it's just that that name sounds so right that there's nothing more to add.

_Yo no quiero ignorar estas ganas de sentirme vivo_

Then he lifts her up in his arms, laughing at her attempts to protest, and takes her to their house on the ocean, where everything is cool darkness and dark bamboo and white linen veils.

While they are in their bed, when the darkness has eaten the sun and Paula is already asleep, Raquel leans against his chest with one hand under her chin, as she always does when they lie so close together.

"And why Lisbon?" she asks him, genuinely curious, the regular beat of his heart soothing her and the desire not to give in to tiredness that keeps her awake ( _because there are such beautiful days that you don't want to let them go_ ).

Sergio hums; his arm holds her tighter and Raquel feels safe in a way that she doesn't fully understand either.

"I've been there once, years ago," he replies, his eyes on the ceiling and his fingers drawing invisible origamis at the base of her back, so lightly that she gets goosebumps. "There were pastel-colored houses and palaces made of white stone, and the white calçada on the streets reflected the light of the ocean. At sunset it was so bright that you could walk only with your eyes closed – you reminded me of that light," he says with simplicity, lowering his gaze, while his lips curls into a sheepish smile.

Raquel blinks, suddenly poised between the instinct to smile and the need to cry; and there is no way to send away that knot in her throat, not to hold Sergio tighter - she has always believed herself an impregnable fortress, Raquel, but not with him, he who has managed to take down all her defenses from the start and who every time makes her heart melt ( _what do you say to words like that?_ ).

"But you can choose another one, if you don't like it, and..." he rambles, trying to clarify, but Raquel shakes her head.

"No, no. It's perfect," she says. In that instant she only hopes that he won't notice the way her lips tremble, the way her gaze is blurred _– and yet Sergio has always noticed everything_. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then she gives him a smile that makes the tears drift away, between her eyelashes, in the corners of her eyes. "You already won me over, there was no need to exaggerate again."

He smiles softly and looks at her without saying anything ( _he has understood her, as always_ ), and Raquel is reminded of an infinity of things - Madrid and the weary days, the coordinates scattered on the back of those yellowed postcards and the gun abandoned on the coffee table in the entrance of her house, the life in the police department she left to follow the Professor ( _Sergio, only Sergio_ ) - and when he kisses her she thinks that everything has found its place.

It's all so wonderfully crazy, she thinks, snuggling up against his naked side, that she can't imagine herself doing anything else.

_porque nunca he sentido tantas_

**Author's Note:**

> Yo no quiero ignorar estas ganas de sentirme vivo porque nunca he sentido tantas: that's what Sergio says to Raquel the first time they wake up together in s2.


End file.
